Subscribe to this blog

Follow by Email

Short Story: Cthulhu Conference by Rebecca Wrigley

“Gentlemen,
“said Azathoth, “Ladies, thank you for assembling here today.”
He looked around the rented conference hall. To describe it gently
Azathoth was outside
the ordered universe and was that amorphous blight of nethermost
confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all
infinity—the boundless daemon sultan, whose name no lips dare speak
aloud, and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, unlighted chambers
beyond time and space amidst the muffled, maddening beating of vile
drums and the thin monotonous whine of accursed flutes.1
But today he was heading the council as it should be. He did of
course hold court at the center of the universe with the rest of the
Outer Gods dancing about him.

“Do
any of you know why you’ve been called?”

Lu-Kthu,
shrunk down from his regular planetary size for the meeting’s sake,
raised one of his tentacles. He seemed amass
of entrails and internal organs. On closer examination he appeared a
wet, warty globe, covered with countless ovoid pustules and
spider-webbed with a network of long, narrow tunnels. Each pustule
bore the larva of a Great Old One.

“Are
you joking?” spat Yidhra a beautiful naked young woman cloaked in
black, various symbols scarred into her pale skin. “I live among
them. They’re illiterates now with their cellphones and their
ipads. What they do read is rubbish, nothing to make them think too
hard. Even the ones who do read our histories don’t take them
seriously. The world is too modern for us to seem real.”

The
others, amorphous gasses, balls of lava, women that were partially
squid, half giants adorned with writhing worms, spiders with human
heads…all of them stared into space, brows – or what passed for
them -- wrinkled with the uncertainty of the problem. You couldn’t
make people read. Couldn’t make them believe or fear what they
read.

Their
last disciple of any great merit had been H.P. Lovecraft. A mortal
who had spread the word about them in books that were read and
absorbed. Cults, films, other writers, had taken up the word of their
presence and power and they were a subject of fear. But Lovecraft had
died long ago and his legacy had faded with him over time. Oh, there
was still the odd story written about his “creations” but
interest and more important, recognition had waned. People no longer
knew who they were. Couldn’t fear what you didn’t know.

Azathoth
leaned forward on the head of the table addressing the assembly with
a stern expression, “What we need is a new prophet.”

“A
writer?” asked Yidhra, incredulously.

“ No,”
said Azathoth, “we need to find a more visceral, immediate media.”

“Film,”
said a woman with one of her squid tails held to her lips.

“Internet,”
burbled a lava ball in a popping bubble.

Azathoth
put a finger to where his nose might have been and then pointed it at
the lava ball. “You have it my friend. We’re going to film a bit
for Youtube that’s going to go viral in minutes. All we need is a
human to slaughter for the show.”

“Won’t
they yank it if there’s death involved?” asked Lu-Kthu?

“Oh,
most certainly they will,” said Azathoth. “But if we get even a
few views and some of them may download them to their computers, it
will be talked about and that’s what we want.”

“When
do we do this?” asked Yibb-Tstl

Azathoth
gestured to a small video camera on a tripod across the room, and a
laptop computer beside it. “No time like the present. And we’re
all here.”

Azathoth
smiled, “We’ll order in. Yidhra, use the hotel phone to have some
sodas sent up. Then clothe yourself to answer the door and lead the
wait staff in.”

“Just
because I look like them,” she muttered.

“Exactly,
dear. You’re the one that chose to live among them weren’t you?”
said Azsathoth.

Yidhra
continued to grumble on her way to the phone but it wasn’t in
words. She did as told and ordered up the sodas. Then she
materialized a saintly white dress to cover her body, sliding out of
the black cloak and arranging her long red hair freely about her
shoulders.

The
buzzer on the conference room door rang promptly and Yidhra answered
with a sweet smile. “Thank you so much.”

The
girl on the other side smiled widely back and said, “Well, now you
sure are welcome ma’am,” in a perfect Texan twang, which was of
course the accent of the state chosen for the conference. She held a
platter of dewy soda cans on one hand.

“Won’t
you come in?” said Yidhra.

The
girl nodded and entered as Yidhra opened the door wider for her to
pass.

There
was an accordion door that split the conference room in half. It had
been partially drawn and the girl saw no one on this side of it, just
the video camera. “Well my goodness, where is everybody?”

“Oh
they’re just waiting for refreshments,” said Yidhra, nodding at
the accordion door. “You can set that down over there,” she said
gesturing to a table across the room.

When
the girl turned around the group had assembled behind her. What the
hell? She’d never seen anything like them. Some of them were
vomitus – slimy, tentacled, pustules on everything. Some were
whirlpools of utter hopelessness with gnashing teeth besides. Some
were evil malevolence without flesh. One of them, the woman who had
led her in, came forward and maneuvered the video camera on its
tripod. She said something in a foreign language to this roiling
entity with teeth, burning eyes, and the occasional set of arms.

The
girl shrank back against the table. “Oh God what are you?”

“We
are the Outer Gods,” said the roiling entity in a heavy accent.

“What
do you want?” asked the girl

“Fear,”
said the entity, “sacrifice, blood, worship.”

“Please,”
begged the girl, “don’t hurt me.”

“You
came to us.”

“I
was on call. I didn’t come here to be sacrificed!”

“But
you are
here and we have need of you.”

They
tore her flesh creatively from her body. She lived a long time
through the process. One of the vortex entities absorbed the sounds
of her screams. Yidhra with her human form filmed the whole thing,
getting the best angles. She mourned the loss of her own involvement
but hoped for return on the investment of her time.

When
it was all said and done the girl’s body was torn between two of
the whirlpool entities who swallowed her body parts whole. The blood
was sucked clean from every surface by Yibb-Tstl’s nightgaunts.

The
camera was hooked up to the laptop in seconds and the film was
downloaded to the computer’s database. Next they looked up Youtube.
Azathoth had already set up an account so they signed in and went to
the page for uploading content. In less time than it had taken to
devour the girl, they had the footage online.

Not
wanting to disperse right away and nervous about how the plan might
come out. They milled around the conference room, all of them
pointedly not looking at the laptop. Finally Lu-Kthu raised a
tentacle.

Azathoth
grinned unpleasantly. “Then we visit hell upon them. Rip babes from
their Mother’s arms to gut and eat. Raise the dead to walk rotting
amongst the living. Flay the skin from virgin brides upon their
marriage altars – !”

No one ever disappears completely...
You leave for work one morning. Another day in your normal life. Until you come home to discover that your boyfriend has gone.
His belongings have disappeared. He hasn't been at work for weeks. It's as if he never existed. But that's not possible, is it? And there is worse still to come. Because just as you are searching for him
someone is also watching you.

I read her book Sarah which I got from NetGalley and let me tell you it was actually a really good read. If you click on the link you can read my review. What truly pulled me to requesting the book was the cover. I know, I know, you should never just get a book by its cover but you know sometimes the cover catches your eye and you just have to read it. I was very happy and surprised to have the author contact me. I think in all my requesting from NetGalley I have had maybe two authors contact me. So I jumped on the chance to interview Mrs. Polen.Check out her interview and enter into the giveaway that she was kind enough to do. Below is the blurb for the book with where you can purchase the book from amazon, also add it to your TBR shelves on Goodreads.

Seventeen-year-old horror fan Cain Shannon thought helping a ghost find her killers would be the supernatural adventure of a lifetime. Now, he just hopes to survive long enough to protec…

Evie is a strong and beautiful single mother with an adoring son. The only thing she ever wanted was a normal life. She fled a cursed past where her death was inevitable.

She hadn't meant to fall in love. She hadn't meant to give birth. When Victor's father died, her beloved son became her only reason to exist...and then he is kidnapped. To save her son, she unleashes her power, the dark forces of an angry demigoddess.

She coats the southern city in an icy hell while evoking madness and death. She will find Victor and there's no one to stop her...or is there?

A Little Bit of R&R

Network Blog Followers

Wanda's Amazing Amazon Reviewers

Lilypie Angel and Memorial tickers

Daisypath Happy Birthday tickers

Lilypie First Birthday tickers

This is from Google

European Union laws require you to give European Union visitors information about cookies used on your blog. In many cases, these laws also require you to obtain consent.

As a courtesy, we have added a notice on your blog to explain Google's use of certain Blogger and Google cookies, including use of Google Analytics and AdSense cookies.

You are responsible for confirming this notice actually works for your blog, and that it displays. If you employ other cookies, for example by adding third party features, this notice may not work for you. Learn more about this notice and your responsibilities.

For your information

The reviews or products I write on my blog I am not compensated with anything. All of the books or products are given to me free of charge unless otherwise stated in my review and the opinion of said book or product is of my own. Most of the books I do own or I check out from my public library. In my review I will post where I have received the book from. Either from NetGalley and publisher, the author, library or I will just write ebook or paperback if that is the case that means I own the book.

Copyright

All reviews written on this blog Fallen Over Book Reviews are mine and mine alone. I ask that you please do not steal my reviews and post them anywhere else as your own.